“We leave, of course,” she said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. “You and I, under the cover of night. Won’t that be fun? We can pretend to be spies.” It did not, in fact, sound fun. Especially since it entailed leaving behind my books and my closet of couture clothes and my Laura. “Oh,” I said. I didn’t speak to De Lafontaine for the rest of the drive.
MY LAURA!!! DE LAFONTAINE IS A BULLY AND A MONSTER
